


I'll Watch Over You

by quiettewandering



Series: The many universes in which i love you [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 07:16:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7213051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiettewandering/pseuds/quiettewandering
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel always watched Dean sleep, listened to his breathing. For him, it was home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Watch Over You

When Dean’s asleep, Castiel knows the exact rhythms of his breathing. 

He knows when he’s deep in his sleep cycle, knows when he’s moments away from opening his eyes and scrubbing the drool off his chin, knows when Dean is in the midst of a nightmare and requires Castiel to gently touch his forehead, chasing the monsters away. 

Castiel stood over Dean’s bedside for years when he could, keeping watch over his friend. He knew that Dean considered it “creepy”, even said as such, but he never cared. 

There was a hunt, a poltergeist, that threw Dean against the wall, drywall fracturing and the house’s family photos shattering as he tumbled to the ground. He didn’t get up, laid eerily still, so Sam prayed for Castiel’s help as he burned the poltergeist’s last tie on earth away.

Castiel now cradles Dean’s head on his lap, pressing two gentle fingers to his forehead. He doesn’t hear Dean’s familiar breathing. His borrowed heart clenches in panic.

The poltergeist taken care of, Sam safe by the Impala, Castiel zaps them away from the house and tucks Dean into the Winchesters’ rented motel bed. A bed, a place where Castiel has for years watched him breath, memorized it, made a warm, familiar home in the sound of his gentle air being taken in and expelled by his lungs. A place where Dean’s breath never stops.

Dean’s eyes flutter open; he regards Castiel with a frown. “Hey, Cas… Where’s   
Sam?” 

“He took care of the poltergeist. I flew us here. I know you don’t enjoy it when I “zap” you places, but you were–”

Dean raises a hand. “I get it.” He adjusts himself in the bed, wincing. “C’mere.”

Castiel hesitantly sits onto the bed next to where Dean lies. Lets himself be encircled by the waist by Dean’s thick arms, lets himself be pulled into the bed to lie beside him. Dean holds him tightly against his warm chest. Murmurs into his ear, “I’m okay, Cas.”

Castiel relaxes against him, clutching his hands tightly, burying his face into the crook of Dean’s arm, feels his warm, alive skin against his nose, breathes his whiskey and dirt smell in. Eventually, he hears Dean’s air steadying, his arms going limp against Castiel as he buries his face into the nape of the angel’s neck.

Castiel’s thumb makes a pattern against Dean’s tightly held hands as he smiles, closing his eyes to bask in this comfort. 

As an angel, Castiel doesn’t need his own breath to live. But he feels as though he needs Dean’s. He synchronizes his breath to the memorized rhythm of his beloved’s, clutching him tightly.


End file.
